Where shall I start, I suck at introducing my thought while writhing it out. I can run on for miles when I'm being verbal about them, but that never translates onto paper. Not in the beginning at least. It probably because I put way to much thought into sentence structure, punctuation, and considering if any of what I'm saying makes since? All the while never getting to the point within the first two sentences. Why the delay? I may never know...but, the reason for the writing tonight or this morning rather, wasn't to ramble on about how hard it is for me to present a thought via written text. The real question is what inspired it? Feelings of quilt and selflessness, Maybe. The lurking presence of depression? A host of other negative emotions? Never do i ever write about the whole truth. I omit, only divulging the parts of me I'm not ashamed of showing, but always hiding the bits and pieces of me I only let God see. It's as if I'm trying to bury them from myself. Storing them in a box, tucking them always in the furthest and dustiest corners of my being, storing them in a places that even I can't find. However, sometimes in t he mist of searching for sanity and peace of mind, there it lies. Staring at me. Waiting to be cracked open. But what do I do? I just go looking for another corner to place it in. It's like this weird game of hide-and-seek I play with myself. A childhood game of Marco, Polo. My roller coaster of emotions being Polo, calling, screaming, searching for me. Marco. Responding because I'm curious and at the same time slightly apprehensive of what I may discover. Never have I been much of the exploring type. I've always stuck to the familiar. Even when It comes to pain and hurt feelings. I know that I deserve better. That peace of mind is possible, that happiness is in a sense tangible. However, once a get it I shrink back to what I know best. Heartbreak. But, why do I feel this way, you ask? A young woman who on paper seems to have all that one could need, family, beautiful friendships, a loving God, a roof over her head, and in this struggling world the rarest of necessities, a Job. What could be missing? Is it the lack of affection from her family? The sometime hypocritically self-centered relative? Another relative who fails to make decisions on their own accord the concern her? The lack of validation from her household? The constant reassurance of undermined feelings? The absence of encouragement? My answer...easy. All Of The Above.
For as long as I can remember, how I felt about anything that was of a concern for me was never as important as other people may perceive it to be. As if because it wasn't important to others than it simple wasn't important at all. Living with a family for years that could careless about how YOU felt. Always feeling like the protector instead of the protected. Unresolved, "to be continued..." issues is the norm for me. Crap like that tends to get to you after some time. Going a week without fixing a problem is pretty standard. A month, that's out of hand, but years. Sixteen years to be exact, that's enough to end a life. As painful as that sound, it's even harder to feel. Countless years, of never feeling important enough can take you there. But, what is worst is going it alone. Reaching out, crying, kicking, yelling, screaming out for help and being rejected by those closest to you. Where does that leave you, but alone and desperate for relief. How sad. The only idea for true peace that made any sense to me, was not even being able to really discover it. A silent pulse carried the weight of happiness more than breath in my lungs. Although I eventually got through that stage in my life (with the help of my God and an ex-best friend) as an adult one month shy of 22 I still deal with lingering pieces of my past. Although thoughts of darker days have past I still have triggers that take pull me back. As if I'm a Time traveler and halfhearted conversations are my Time-machine. For one the issues that lead me to my depression in the first place still exist, yet to be fixed. Still I try to resolve them, but to no avail. I can only control me. My intentions are to help my own sanity even if others could careless. So what has that done for me? Nothing positive. I just find myself retracting, rebelling, and trying to be heard. To be understood is not as simple as one would think. All I really want is for someone who has hurt me to understand to what extant there behavior has had on me. However, that day may never come and I'm getting to the point were I'm realizing my happiness is just that. MINE.
Those who I care about most will not always treat me in such a way that I approve, but at the end of the day the only two people they have to answer to in the is God and themselves and vise versa, I have to hold myself accountable to and for God and myself. Although I am a firm believer in teaching people how to treat me, I have to realize that some people will never learn. The saying holds true, "You can't teach a old dong new trick." Sad, yet it's life. No matter how harsh and unfair that my sound, its reality. Troublesome and packed with benefits it's one hard pill to swallow. Not always pleasurable, but sometime helpful. Throughout all of this I have found some comfort. My friends. They are truly amazing!!! True blessings. I get a little teary eyed thinking about how much they've shown me the love I felt I was lacking. Truly precious gems of the rarest kind. All of them rainbows after the heaviest of storms. They are exactly what my wounded and tattered soul needs. For Them, I'm Grateful. Even though I can't say everyday is an easy one. What I can say is, everyday is worth the next one.
Now, just like opening this entry, concluding it gives me the same amount of trouble. I never know how to close these out. I really need to work on that.
But, until next time. -B.Nicole
*STAY POSITIVE*
